Chapter 26 - The Empire Goes Public
Marriage did not make Lucian less dangerous.
It made him more organized.
Three months after our wedding, Moretti Logistics filed paperwork for a public offering.
Wall Street lost its mind.
Financial reporters camped outside Halcyon Tower.
Analysts argued on television.
Old Moretti allies called Lucian a traitor.
Young executives called him brilliant.
I called him impossible because he kept leaving financial prospectuses on my dining table.
“You own an office,” I reminded him.
“You designed this table.”
“That does not make it a securities exchange.”
Lucian kissed my cheek.
“Coffee?”
“Yes.”
Marriage suited us.
Not because life became simple.
Because we stopped pretending simplicity was required for happiness.
My studio grew rapidly after the children's hospital project.
Harper Delaney Studio moved into a renovated loft in Fulton Market.
Naomi became managing director.
We hired twelve designers.
Then twenty.
I refused Lucian's investment offer.
He pretended not to be offended.
“I support women entrepreneurs.”
“You also enjoy owning things.”
“I prefer strategic influence.”
“Exactly.”
The Moretti council continued fighting the IPO.
But federal investigations had weakened them.
Carlo Bellandi accepted a plea deal.
Daniel Mercer was awaiting trial.
Mason Hale faced enough charges to keep six law firms employed for years.
Salvatore did something no one expected.
He resigned as council chairman.
Lucian read the letter during breakfast.
“He's done.”
I looked up.
“With the council?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel?”
Lucian folded the letter.
“Relieved.”
“That's it?”
“No.”
“What else?”
“Sad.”
I waited.
“He spent his life defending a family structure he knew was rotten because he believed dismantling it would dishonor my father.”
“And now?”
“Now he understands my father wanted it dismantled.”
Two weeks later, Salvatore visited.
No guards.
No overcoat.
No performance.
Just an aging man carrying a wooden box.
He placed it on our table.
“This belonged to Alessandro.”
Lucian opened it.
Inside was a watch.
Simple.
Old.
Nothing like the luxury pieces Lucian owned.
“He wore it every day,” Salvatore said.
Lucian lifted it carefully.
“I remember.”
Salvatore looked at me.
“He would have liked you.”
“Because I redesigned his son's penthouse?”
“Because you argue.”
I laughed.
“So did Alessandro.”
Lucian smiled faintly.
Salvatore's expression became serious.
“The public offering will destroy the old council.”
“I know,” Lucian said.
“There will be no going back.”
“I know.”
Salvatore nodded.
“Good.”
He stood.
Lucian looked surprised.
“That's all?”
Salvatore paused.
“I spent too many years believing loyalty meant preserving what came before.”
He looked at his nephew.
“I was wrong.”
Lucian stood.
For several seconds, they faced each other.
Then Lucian hugged him.
Salvatore froze.
So did I.
Gideon, standing near the elevator, suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.
Salvatore slowly returned the embrace.
When he left, Lucian stood by the window holding his father's watch.
I wrapped my arms around him from behind.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
He turned.
“For the first time, I think the Moretti name might become something my father would recognize.”
The IPO launched in November.
Shares opened at forty-two dollars.
Closed at sixty-eight.
Moretti Logistics became one of the most valuable private-to-public transportation companies in the Midwest.
The family trust lost controlling power.
The old council dissolved.
Reporters called it a corporate revolution.
Lucian called it Tuesday.
That evening, we stood on the rooftop terrace.
The same place he had proposed.
I handed him champagne.
“To legitimacy.”
He clinked his glass against mine.
“To architects who destroy organized crime with building permits.”
“I want that on a plaque.”
His phone rang.
We both stared at it.
He checked the screen.
Kyle Bradley.
Lucian raised an eyebrow.
“Interesting.”
I answered on speaker.
Kyle's voice sounded terrified.
“Harper?”
May you like
“Yes?”
“I think someone is going to kill Madison.”
